Wonder

I happened across her corpse
in the woods, below the oak tree.
I didn’t touch it, just sat and stared
wondering how something so delicate
could be ripped in half by desirous
eyes, tainted hands. Her soul,
I could feel hovering over
my shoulder, begging empathy
to surrender, but my soul rests
between life and death,
sun and moon, where the cycles
of time dance with man’s
pillar across Earth’s game board.
Silly pawns they’ve created,
some to live, some to die
and some, like myself, who
are meant to happen across
corpses in the woods, below
oak trees, not to touch,
but to sit, stare, wonder.

© 2023 Rena Aliston. All rights reserved.